


Just A Nightmare

by abluerose



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, I am so sorry, so many goddamn cliche lines
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 06:41:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10531014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abluerose/pseuds/abluerose
Summary: Muggle AU drabble that's kinda sorta based off 5 seconds of summer's song "Amnesia"





	

Draco's heart was broken. Smashed into a million little smithereens. All because of Hermione Jean Granger.

 

On breaks at work, he sometimes scrolled through their old messages and see the photos she had sent. Pictures of her and Crookshanks, her and a stack of proudly finished books, or simply her. Draco was never really a fan of selfies but Hermione's attracted him unsurprisingly. She sent them when she was bored, when there was a cute Snapchat filter, or when she thought he was feeling down. Now he felt lonelier then ever, looking at her smiles for quite concerning amounts of time. The feeling of creepiness that followed afterward didn't help either.

 

On his way back home from work, he sometimes took the longer route and drove by the park, slowing down just the slightest bit to view one of their favorite places to get wasted. There was a small grassy spot near the end of the park that people seldom visited, overlooking the lake and surrounding scenery. 

"The park," Hermione suggested, even though they were already staying late at the nearly deserted library. "I couldn't ruin a place of wisdom."

"But nature is the perfect setting?" Draco teased, laughing when Hermione gave him a look and shoved her bag of books at him.

"The beauty of nature matches wonderfully with the pleasant effects of getting wasted," She stated matter of factly and paused, her hand lingering close to Draco's free hand before interlocking them. "Like me and you."

 

On sad days, he laid down on their bed, having instead opted to sleep in one of the guest rooms since she left. Hermione's scent, notes of cinnamon and freshly printed paper, flooded his senses and seemed to only deepen the ache he felt whenever he thought of her. Which was essentially every minute of his waking day.

Yet he could never stop himself from wrapping himself in the sheets occasionally (read every three days) and inhaling the scent before it'd fade away like it would be his last breaths of oxygen. 

 

On really sad days, he sat in their bed with a pillow clutched against his chest. Those days meant fully remembering the day she that left, as if he was reliving those hours of fresh heartache and being submerged by the pain. The day she crushed his heart and soul without much explanation and left with whatever was left of them.

"Draco, I can't be with you anymore and I'm so sorry." The words left her in a rush, coming out so fast a stranger to Hermione would think she was speaking gibberish. 

Draco understood though. He understood what she had said but not why. After swallowing a deep breath, he managed to croak out a weak "Why?"

She shook her head, curls swishing back and forth. "We just...aren't the right match."

 

The same day that they last kissed. She tasted like his favorite drink, bourbon from the Oak's, and her favorite chocolate, truffles from Godiva. It was a different kiss, Draco realized, than the countless others they had shared. Not a long or short kiss but undoubtedly one of their most passionate. The way Hermione had pressed herself against him, fingers holding him as close as possible.

 

The same day he saw her cry not the hardest but quietest in front of him. Arguably as hard as the time Crookshanks entered a short surgery before Draco and the doctor gently informed her it was already over and the cat was absolutely fine. So hard her supposedly waterproof mascara had started to mesh in with her tears, creating thin, dark grey lines streaking down her face. But so quietly he hadn't truly noticed until she gave him one last swift peck on the cheek before rushing out the door with her belongings.

"I really am so sorry, Draco." Her hand gently rested on one of his cheeks as she leaned to press her lips to the other. "I don't expect you to forgive me, just leave me behind. Just forget me."

 

But he couldn't fucking forget. He almost wished there was some sort of magical spell that could take her out of his head. He almost wished he had amnesia so she'd be out of his head. Almost.

 

Because forgetting her completely sounded just as, if not more, painful. It'd surely leave an even bigger hole in Draco because he wouldn't know what had caused it. Leaving Draco to mourn with an unknown pain forever.

 

He wanted to forget all the stupid, little things. Like how it felt to fall asleep next to her, the warmth enveloping him and her hair brushing his chin as he nestled in closer. How her nose crinkled when she found something she disagreed with. How she bought sweets for both him and trick-or-treaters on Halloween.

 

He sunk further down into the sheets, staring up at the ceiling where Hermione had painted tiny stars. Not like the tacky glow in the dark stick on stars but tiny white specks across a dark blue background. So they could see his constellation inside she had said, laughing as he rolled his eyes but kissed her on her forehead nonetheless.  
Draco knew he had to get up soon yet remained unmoving, eyes still fixed on the stars. He knew she had moved on. He was happy for her. But it still hurt. And it was harder to hear her name come up in conversations when his friends asked why he hadn't been around lately. 

 

It was like they had never happened. Had it all just been a lie? If what they had was real, how could she be fine? 

 

Cause he wasn't fine at all.


End file.
